


Undertow

by AstralFire



Category: Dishonored (Video Game), Thief (Video Games)
Genre: Crossover, Garrett and Corvo broing about asshole gods, Gen, Spoilers, never steal whale bone runes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:49:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstralFire/pseuds/AstralFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrett steals a questionable artifact, but finds he's transported to another world before he can even think about how much its sale would earn him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Bird Told Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fatality145](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatality145/gifts).



> I said I would do it, Snake.

Whispered rumors in The City say a renowned Hammerite owns—hoards really—a priceless artifact of which no one knows the origins. At least, no one alive knows. People say different things about its appearance: oh, it 's a glittering stone; oh, it's a magical mirror; oh, it's a knife that can bring back the dead. Yet no one can say with certainty what this invaluable thing resembles much less where Garrett can find it.

It doesn't take two fully organic eyes, Garrett knows, to see just how much an artifact like that will sell to the right buyer.


	2. The End and Beginning of All Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried a hundred times to write the start of this, but the critic in me was never, ever satisfied with anything.

The moment Garrett touches the strange artifact in Wieldstrom Museum, he regrets it.

A light so bright it sears his eyes explodes from the thing--it's fucking _bone_ , he realizes just as this happens--consuming him in every direction. At first, it's a stream, and then it's a spinning and swirling vortex of what he can only assume is the sun--yes, he is falling right in to the sun somehow, and that's just what he gets for butterfingering a piece of _bone_ tied together with _metal_ in the middle of a museum--but the mysterious illumination is quickly extinguished and replaced by something even more terrifying: complete and total darkness.

Garrett is use to the night and its many shadows, but this darkness is not that kind of darkness, and he is unsure if he's floating or falling since he can't see an inch in front of his face even when waving his hand. Then he's suddenly not sure if he's waving his hand at all because there's no sound, no light, and no movement. Is he still breathing? He can't feel the rise or fall of his chest. Is his heart still beating? He can't feel the thrum of it against his ribs. Is he blinking? He can't even tell if his damn eyes are open or shut, so does that mean he's blind?

All at once, he fears he has been suspended for eternity in an infinite expanse of black space between here and there. And he fears he's dead.

Just as soon as he's ready to chastise himself for not being more cautious, a blot of blue flares up in the distance and grows larger with each passing second. The wait feels both short and long without anything relative to compare it to, but the closer it gets, the more he realizes that it's not just a random bit of light, but it's a _hole_ , and he is going to be tossed out of it.

Only in the brief moments between being in absolutely nothing and then being thrown out into something does he realize how truly terrifying it is for a baby to be born.

Garrett hits the ground like a bag of rocks, surprised not only at how fast he was actually traveling, but also that he lands on hard stone. It takes a dizzying minute for him to lift himself up, and, at first, he is relieved to see glimpses of familiarity, and then, next, he is upset to find there is more here he doesn't recognize. Bits and pieces of The City litter an endless length of hazy blue yonder, so far he cannot see the end of it. He knows the places: Wieldstrom, the Old Quarter, Shalebridge. He knows the people statued in each one: guards, shop owners, prostitutes. Then there is some places he doesn't know, some with red banners, some with the frozen forms of men in otherworldly uniforms.

Slowly, he stands into a cautious hunch, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees as easy as possible with a raging headache. 

He still has the bone-and-metal artifact in his hand when an ethereal voice says, _Well, well, isn't this fascinating?_


End file.
